


You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)

by luxor



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Nurse Mingyu, Pole Dancer Junhui, Pole Dancing, Romance, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 01:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14822715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxor/pseuds/luxor
Summary: Jeonghan's dares never end up well for Mingyu, until they do.





	You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)

There are usually only two kinds of dread that Mingyu feels whenever he makes a bet.

1) When the realization kicks in that he actually made a bet with Jeonghan, out of all people on the floor, in the middle of a graveyard shift, when patients are fast asleep to actually let him catch up on charting assessments. The dread feels a lot like agreeing to bungee jump with friends because it looked fun enough in movies, but realizing that you’re actually afraid of heights when you’re at the edge of the cliff; and

2) when he faces the fact that there is zero to one percent probability he'll win said bet. This is the part when you just _know_ that harness is going to snap in two while you’re falling.

It isn't his fault that he and his big, fat pride always falls for the same trick as soon as Jeonghan says "I dare you." That’s just poor sportsmanship on Jeonghan’s part.

For what it's worth, Mingyu’s won a few bets here and there. He's still convinced that Jeonghan might be some kind of wizard. Who knows the future. Or control it. Something like that.

After all, there has been nothing that’s disproved this theory.

So now, here he is, feeling a different kind of dread when he finds a parking spot close to the small commercial building where he's supposed to carry out the punishment for losing. He shakes off the nerves and the potential jeering laughter he'll get from his flatmate when he finds out what Mingyu's doing on his day off and steps out of the car.

It’s that time of spring when it’s not _really_ spring. The evening wind is crisp and fresh against his jacket, yet not welcoming enough to wear shorts without any of his body parts freezing off. So he's thankful that he decided on wearing sweatpants. His steps are fast, but his mind isn't sure what to expect from a pole dance studio. He hadn’t even expected there would _be_ one, considering Urbana is quite the small city, with the university making up a big portion of its culture.

How Jeonghan knew about this place, he doesn't want to find out.

There's a jingle that rings when he opens the door, signaling his entrance, and he flinches. He has hoped to be a little more discreet, but the few people sitting on the floor have already glanced in his direction. They turn away after a moment or two, returning to their previous conversation. He toes his shoes off and leaves them in a shoe rack before hanging his jacket. At least they don't care that there's a guy in the class.

Mingyu smiles, tight-lipped and nervous, and grabs an exercise mat since everyone else has one, scanning around the small area for a place to settle in. He goes for the side closest to what looks like an office and a break room, so he doesn't have to feel the cold wind seeping through his shirt every time there's a new patron coming in.

He sits cross-legged on the floor and takes in the surroundings, as well as the people filtering in for the class. He finds it quite amazing that there are a variety of body types and sizes among the class, instead of thin, curvy bodies like he’d been expecting. The whole environment feels less suggestive than what Mingyu thought he would see, save for the multicolor fluorescent lights that make it look like a party.

At this point, everything he expects is more likely not what it is. And he quite likes it.

Not that he isn't embarrassed that he’s going to have to dance in front of a crowd of more than ten people. The most dancing he's ever done is when he got shit-faced in a small get-together with Jeonghan and Wonwoo. Two of the biggest pieces of shit, especially when put together in the same room as Mingyu. He shivers.

There's five minutes before class starts, and the instructor is still nowhere to be found. Junhui Wen is what the website said when he signed up for a class (closely monitored by Jeonghan until he had submitted the form), and he hasn't heard someone call anyone else here by that name. Maybe there's a chance that class is cancelled, since there might be a grace period. But postponing this class would mean he’d have to take another one in the near future. He frowns.

He just can’t win.

His thoughts are halted by yet another ring of the door, and he’s genuinely surprised and relieved that it’s another guy that comes in. He sighs and straightens up, ready to approach the guy, when he stops in the middle of the room.

 _Oh_.

“Hey guys, I’m Seokmin, as some of you may already know, and I’ll be subbing for Junnie for today.” His smile is kind, brighter than the lights reflecting off of the poles, causing Mingyu to look away a bit. Also because Seokmin just starts to peel off his jogging pants in front of everyone, revealing firm thighs. No one else seems to be bothered by it. Mingyu feels his face flush. Did they turn up the heat in here, or something?

“I see a couple of new faces around, and I’m ecstatic to have you all stop by and give our loving abode a try. I’m glad to see everyone who came back, too, you guys are truly the best.” This is punctuated by a wink, and Mingyu feels appalled. Men like Seokmin have no business being this cute, really.

Seokmin doesn’t waste time and starts calling roll. There are a total of fifteen of them in the class. Not a lot, but that doesn’t make Mingyu any less shy. At least there’s only fifteen of them who get to watch him make a fool out of himself.

Warm-up is relatively harder than those he’s done in the past, with more focus on stretching out every single muscle in his arms and legs than anything else. By the time they’re all done getting blood pumping through their bodies, he’s already sweating buckets. He looks around and feels much better seeing that he isn’t the only one panting his lungs out like he just ran a marathon.

He goes to the breakroom and takes off his sweatpants, feeling a tad bit self-conscious from the tight-fitting shorts that hike up on the upper half of his thighs.

Seokmin’s enthusiastic claps brings the whole class’ attention to him as he lowers the 2000’s music down a notch. “Alright, now that we’re all hot and _steamy_ , is everyone ready to see the whole routine?”

Whoops and cheers erupt from the people and Mingyu claps along, anticipation thrumming in his veins when the familiar bass of Taeyeon’s _I Got Love_ starts filtering through the room.

Seokmin’s friendly smile disappears like a flick of the switch and turns into something more sultry to set the mood. All Mingyu can feel is chaotic horny energy.

His jaw is on the floor throughout the whole routine. Amazing doesn’t even cut it. How strong Seokmin is, he doesn’t exactly know, but suddenly the reason behind his god-tier thighs is much more apparent. When Seokmin sends a wink in his general direction while grinding on the pole, Mingyu can’t help but feel a blush rush to his cheeks.

As soon as the dance stops around the one minute mark, the cheers come out much louder. But while Mingyu is thoroughly floored at Seokmin’s performance, he gnaws his lips in worry. How the hell is he expected to do the same thing? Granted, Seokmin probably doesn’t think about it too much since they’re all beginners, but the overachiever in Mingyu says otherwise.

He partners up with a sweet, middle-aged lady to share the pole with, and she is nothing short of encouraging and patient whenever he hooks his leg against the pole and attempts a fireman’s spin, only to stop mid-way because of the lack of trust he has for his legs. He stutters with his movements, plus his long, lanky legs don’t help with sticking to his plan of being discreet at all.

So it’s not a surprise when Seokmin easily spots him and approaches him with that warm smile he‘s been wearing since classes started. “What are you having problems with?”

“U-um, actually...” His throat closes up when he realizes Seokmin is staring at him with that deer-caught-in-headlights kind of look. “I’m honestly kinda scared… I don’t trust my legs too much.” He rubs the back of his neck and tries attaching his leg on the pole the way Seokmin taught it.

“That’s perfectly fine, falling isn’t exactly something we’re used to. So our mind backs out of doing it.” Seokmin fixes Mingyu’s leg and grabs his wrist to place it a bit higher on the pole.

Mingyu inches back when he realizes how close Seokmin is against him, a flush spreading to the tips of his ears.

“But your legs are stronger than what you make them to be. So long as you got the right body mechanics, you won’t get hurt. Now, try.” He urges on, like a father pushing his child’s bicycle for the first time.

And like a child, Mingyu nods and tightens his grip around the pole, closing his eyes before letting himself fall in a spin.

The next thing he hears is Seokmin and his pole partner giving him an applause. “Good job, Gyu! That was beautiful! Now just try to practice with your eyes open.”

Either Seokmin is very good at complimenting people from teaching beginners’ class, or Mingyu really has done a decent try at doing the spin.

Well, he’ll take a little bit of both.

The whole class goes by in a blur, his body surely looking stiff in a way it should have been graceful and suggestive when they went through the whole routine with music on. No surprise there.

Taeyeon’s sultry voice accompanying the heavy beats has helped alleviate his shame a little while he was dancing. But he remembers that he asked the lady to take a video of him as proof to Jeonghan that he is going to the classes as promised, so now he feels like burying himself ten feet underground.

Other than the embarrassment of having to show that video to Jeonghan, he admits to himself that he enjoyed the class and felt a big boost of confidence from everyone in it. almost felt like a small, accepting family that he looks forward to seeing more of, especially Seokmin. But Jeonghan doesn’t have to know about that.

 

“You totally enjoyed the class.” Jeonghan says as soon as Mingyu gets his ass on a chair, spinning a pen between his crooked fingers while Mingyu drinks his apple juice. Mingyu chokes on it and coughs it out.

“Shut your mouth and finish charting before 6 acts up again.” He frowns at the wasted apple juice and contemplates pouring the rest of it on Jeonghan’s face, but Jeonghan isn’t worth the apple juice. Not even the cheap ones from the nourishment room for patients, which is _coincidentally_ where he took his from. He stands up all too suddenly and groans at the same time his body does as soon as he moves a muscle

“You’re welcome!” Jeonghan calls out while he makes a beeline for the medication room. There’s a cackle that Mingyu chooses to ignore right after he blindly flips him the finger.

Real smooth, Mingyu, real smooth.

He did enjoy it, but he would rather die than admit Jeonghan has done something _right_. But other than having a blast in the class, he’s also dead tired from having to take three night shifts in a row after it. He ends up popping numerous heat packs and four tablets of ibuprofen to last him through every night.

 

After recovering from his last night shift of the week, which is always the worst, he doesn’t wake up early enough to freshen up and prepare for the class. He jumps off his bed in hurry, nearly tripping on his phone charger while he’s putting on his shorts, then actually tripping on the portable heater two steps away from the charger.

He makes a commotion so big, that even his flatmate steps in to check on him.

“Are you,” _okay_ , is probably what Vernon means to ask, but Mingyu is on the floor, shorts midway up his legs, “wearing shorts?”

“Yeah. Ow. Bring your complaints to HR if you have one.” Mingyu doesn’t mean to be snappy at him, but he’s almost late and he’s still on the floor, without the needed help. He hopes he didn’t fracture his hip.

When Vernon lends him a hand to get him up, Mingyu pulls his shorts up, putting his gray sweatpants on top of it.

“Thanks. I’ll be back with food.” He checks himself on the mirror to fix his hair and rushes out to his car.

When he steps in the class, with ten minutes to spare, he sees that his previous spot is taken, and the only free spot left is in the center, right in front of whoever the instructor is. There’s a tiny flicker of hope that it might be Seokmin again, even if it still says the same Junhui Wen on the webpage. He tries to scan around the classes for faces he saw last session, but none comes up.

Right around the scheduled class time, the teacher shows up. Unfortunately, it’s not Seokmin.

“Hello class. My name is Junhui. It’s a pleasure to be with you all right now.” His smile is small, and Mingyu sees a few people coo from his periphery. “I haven’t been in class for a month, so I think a majority of people here are fresh faces. I’ll make sure this class will be fun for you all.”

Junhui is a little less upbeat, and a whole lot more soft-spoken than Seokmin.

Mingyu feels awkward having to stretch in front of the instructor, especially whenever he makes eye contact with him. But as soon as they’re done, he doesn’t even feel as tired as he was the first time around.

“Alrighty, I heard that a lot of people have been requesting more _sexy_ ,” Junhui grins, adds in a little shimmy to emphasize the word, “to be incorporated in the routine, so I made sure there’s a handful of it in this routine I made.” He chuckles, soft and almost inaudible in the midst of the cheers at the prospect of more suggestive themes coming their way.

Mingyu has a hard time thinking Junhui can be sexy just from the gentleness of his words, but the faux leather shorts hugging his thighs in all the right ways makes him think twice.

Of course, Junhui pulls a Seokmin as soon as _Hips Don’t Lie_ starts playing in the background. Everyone else jams along while they watch Junhui dance because, _come on_ , everyone knows a classic. But Mingyu just can’t help but gawk at Junhui’s face, his legs, his everything. It’s like every movement Junhui does is to do one thing and one thing only—to grab everyone’s attention. Where he lacks energy compared to Seokmin, he makes up for in seamless flow and flexibility.

The sexy is definitely there, and more in-your-face than the routine Mingyu had to do in the previous class, but he doesn’t set an expectation for himself. He tries to be more realistic this time. There’s loud cheers from the whole class when Junhui finishes the routine on all fours, legs spread in a near-split.

Junhui’s aloof side comes back as quick as it disappeared. He bows rather theatrically, getting ready to break every step down for the class.

The whole class partners up to share poles like before, but being the odd man out, Mingyu stares at the last free pole. He swallows down a nervous groan while he steps towards Junhui’s expectant smile.

“Guess we’ll be pole partners.” Junhui _giggles_ as he wipes the pole in a stroking pattern—up, down, up, down—with a washcloth.

 _‘What the fuck. Is this allowed?’_ Mingyu looks around, but again, nobody seems to be bothered at all. _‘Is_ this _allowed?’_

“Would you like some?” Junhui offers him a bottle without any qualms, as if he just hasn’t pseudo-jerked the pole off in front of Mingyu. “It helps dry your palms, so you can grip the pole better.”

Mingyu picks his brain off the gutter and looks down at his hands. “Yes..?” _‘How did my hands get so clammy all of a sudden?’_

Junhui laughs and pours some on his hands. It looks an awful lot like semen.

Mingyu pats the liquid on his palms until it evens out, his throat as dry as his hands are with the liquid chalk.

Thankfully, during the whole class, Junhui walks around to check on everyone, to cheer them on and provide feedback, giving Mingyu time alone and spurts of shamelessness to do the movements whenever Junhui’s attention is not solely on him. If he’s being generous, he could say that what he did was actual dancing. Jeonghan would probably laugh at his attempt of it, but he tried the best he could, even earning a golden star from Junhui right after finishing the routine.

Kind of demeaning, but Mingyu doesn’t mind. And the class seems to like the positive reinforcement, since he hears mumbles of having fun and coming back.

After the cooldown, he immediately feels the exhaustion kicking in, so Mingyu takes his sweet time to put his sweatpants back on. There’s a sluggish joy in him, knowing that he’s off work for four days straight again.

The class is the last of the day, so no one is filtering in and Junhui doesn’t seem to be in a rush to lock the place up for the night. That or he’s just too kind to tell Mingyu to hurry the hell up so he can go home.

“Thanks for everything tonight!” Mingyu exclaims as he waves, smiles when he hears Junhui’s voice from the breakroom. He steps out of the class with the wind welcoming his face. When he’s about to get in his car, he recognizes Seokmin on the passenger’s seat in the minivan to his left.

His happy streak continues.

He knocks on the window to catch his attention, when he notices the shadow of another person on the driver’s seat. Mingyu’s tall enough to see that their fingers are linked, but he pretends he doesn’t see it when he hears Seokmin’s loud ‘ _Oh, hey_!’ past the window before rolling the windows down.

His greeting dies in the back of his throat, but Seokmin doesn’t notice it. “Hey, Mingyu! Nice to see you come back!”

Mingyu nods and fakes a wide smile, “Yeah, you—it—the class was great. It’d be a mistake not to.” He flinches at every stutter he made, but he sort of saves it with a small chuckle. The mystery guy decides to turn the courtesy lights on before anyone else can speak, and Mingyu’s pea-sized chance with Seokmin gets pummeled into dust even more. At this point, he doesn’t even know why he thought he had a chance in the first place.

“Oh! Thanks, Shua.” Seokmin’s smile catches the last of Mingyu’s breath. “Gyu, meet my lovebug, Joshua. Shua, meet one of our new students, Mingyu.”

Mingyu doesn’t know which one caused more damage, the cute nickname Seokmin just gave him (ignoring the fact that his family calls him that), Seokmin’s boyfriend’s presence (who looks like the embodiment of the word _beautiful_ ) or the fact that they own a _minivan_. You know who owns minivans? Couples who are settled in suburbs and host barbeque weekends with their neighbors, that’s who.

He clears his throat and musters up his best happy voice. “Hey there. Nice to meet you.” The last word kind of gets stuck in his throat when Joshua makes eye contact with him. He sticks a hand in for a handshake, hoping that the minivan’s window doesn’t magically roll up fast to chop his arm off under Joshua’s command.

“Pleased to meet you too.” Joshua accepts it with a smile.

“Of course. By the way, Seokmin is such a great teacher.” Mingyu feels relief, albeit short-lived, when Joshua gives his hand a firm enough squeeze that surely translates to a threat. He lets go of the hand before he gets a fracture. “Anyways. What are you waiting here for?”

“Ah, Junnie carpools with us! Speak of the angel.”

Junhui comes out of the building in all his leather-shorted glory, rushing to the car when the evening wind gives another cool blow.

“Mingyu! Hey, Seok, Shua. Thanks for letting me carpool again. I promise I’ll pay you back for everything.”

Seokmin waves it off with his unwavering smile. Don’t his cheeks ever get tired? “No need. You’ve been treating us to dinner every time.”

“Oh, right! Who’s in the mood for Italian tonight?” Junhui claps eagerly while waiting for the minivan’s door to fully open, which is quite slow, seeing how Junhui starts rocking on the balls of his feet for a couple moments while Mingyu just stands there.

Seokmin frowns. “Olive Garden doesn’t pass as Italian, Junnie.”

“Yeah it does,” both Mingyu and Junhui exclaim at the same time, and they high-five.

“See, Mingyu agrees with me.” He turns to look at him. “You should come with us!”

Seokmin perks up at the suggestion and nods. “Yeah, that’d be fun!”

Mingyu is surprised at the sudden invitation, especially from someone he just met not even more than two hours ago. Without letting his brain filter his words, he spurts out, “Ah, well, as much as I would love to, the roomie made something for supper. Sorry! Enjoy the breadsticks for me.”

He excuses himself to get in the car before the awkwardness fully kicks in, bidding farewell to the three as he starts to drive back. Back to his apartment, where Vernon sits, no food in sight because he’s most likely too busy cramming words in his final paper.

There is no way in hell he’d survive Joshua for an hour. Joshua gives him a very Jeonghan vibe.

 

Mingyu decides to stop by McDonald’s and make enemies of the employees there by ordering forty pieces of nuggets, three large fries and a large vanilla milkshake because he missed the golden chance to eat in Olive Garden. He sneaks in a caramel sundae to apologize to Vernon for being snippy at him earlier.

 _Did I sound like I didn’t wanna spend time with them?_ Mingyu blindly shoves fries in his mouth as he recalls what happened just minutes ago. He gnaws on his bottom lip in worry. It isn’t his fault for rejecting Junhui’s offer. Joshua probably doesn’t want him there. And it would be weird to eat dinner with his teachers. It’s like going out to eat with managers—it’s just not the natural way of life. He nods to himself, finding a bit of resolve from his internal dilemma while he parks.

But of course, that resolve is just not enough. The thought lingers throughout the night as he stirs his now-runny milkshake, as he brushes his teeth and stares at his reflection, as he buries himself under the covers. Maybe he should’ve rejected the offer with more finesse. What if that encounter made it all awkward? There’s three more classes left from the coupon Jeonghan bought him and the chances of them going smoothly as possible have escaped his grasp.

He groans against his pillow and looks at the clock. Two in the morning and he’s wide awake, even if his body is begging for him to sleep.

 

When he wakes up around ten hours since he unconsciously fell asleep—his body ended up getting the sleep it needed after all, he realizes it’s been a while since he went out on his own volition. He’s either dragged out by Jeonghan on his days off, or he’s too lazy to get up, thriving simply on take out or Lunchables on rare occasions, per Vernon’s request. He’s been a graduate for more than a year now, immediately snagging a position in his target hospital, but being on night shifts held him back from catching up with his friends back in university.

He has everything he needs: a well-paying job, a bachelor’s degree and a decent place to stay in, but he doesn’t feel content. And he feels ungrateful for feeling that in the first place.

He sighs as he decides to go out for lunch. He hears Jeonghan in his subconscious saying, ‘ _Finally_!’

Is he _that_ lonely that even Jeonghan is residing in his brain?

He shivers. All the more reason to go out and get some sunlight.

The Korean fast-food place he decides to eat at in the campus is still bustling past lunch time. He’s lucky to snag a table as soon as he gets his food, albeit near the trash bin.

He starts wolfing down his food, body just now catching up that he hasn’t taken in anything since last night. Mingyu’s a pretty sad sight compared to the groups of students talking, but he tries not to let it get to him, checking his phone every now and then. As if he has anything to actually check but updates from his family group in Facebook and the occasional local Twitter—which means virtually nothing but outdated memes. Instagram is useless and it serves a big reminder of how his high school friends have come so far while maintaining their social lives.

He pockets his phone to continue eating, more bummed than ever as he shovels food in his mouth.

“Hey, Mingyu!”

Mingyu blinks up at the source of the voice, and he’s surprised to see Junhui, holding a tray of food. He covers his mouth before replying a muffled, “Oh, h-hey, Junhui!”

“Just call me Jun.” Junhui flashes a sheepish smile. “Anyways, the seats are all taken… Mind if I share a seat with you?”

His mouth is still covered as he smiles back. “No, no, go ahead. I’m almost done anyways.”

“Great! Thank you very much.” Junhui settles the tray down and hums a soft tune while breaking the chopsticks.

“You’re welcome.”

Mingyu tries to be more civil in front of his teacher by chewing his food a bit more slowly, glancing across him to acknowledge Junhui every now and then. He watches Junhui in his own world while eating, takes in the sight of him struggling to keep his sleeves up while slurping the kimchi stew, notices how he purses his lips whenever the soup gets too spicy. There’s a lingering thought that Junhui wearing leggings and an oversized pullover hoodie has a very different charm from when he taught class last evening. It’s almost endearing.

There’s a smile that slips through the cracks that even Mingyu himself doesn’t even notice until Junhui clears his throat.

“I-Is there something on my face?”

Mingyu shakes his head. “No, no, um,” a pause, “No.”

Junhui wipes his face with a pout, looking anything but convinced, but he resumes eating nonetheless. This time, he pulls his phone out and scrolls through Twitter—not that Mingyu can see exactly what he’s looking at.

Mingyu takes this as his cue to leave, since he’s already done with his food.

Before he can stand, however, there’s a force holding him back. The force, which is strong enough to keep Mingyu seated, if you ask him, is a tug on his sleeve. He stays; Junhui looks like he needed some company, anyways.

“Have you seen this?” Junhui smiles, eager and bright as he turns his phone to show Mingyu a video and still watch from an angle. The video is a hamster trying to do... something with an empty water bottle. “Wait for it, wait for it…” The hamster stumbles and falls on its back before going back to its usual business. Junhui is nothing short of giddy as he waits for Mingyu’s reaction.

“That’s so cute!” Mingyu grins, but his focus is slightly off the phone and on something else entirely. Maybe Junhui’s just really that contagious.

And one video turned into four, then off into a slight tangent about whether or not cats are superior than dogs, and then back they go to watching more videos of cats _and_ dogs. Junhui is nothing short of passionate towards cats.

The customers are dwindling down enough to realize how long he’s been sitting there with Junhui showing him animal videos.

He glances at a nearby clock, and more than hour has passed since he started eating.

Junhui finishes eating for quite a while now, but he doesn’t really do anything until Mingyu looks at the time. “Oh, no. I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to keep you here longer.”

“Oh, no.” Mingyu clears his throat when he realizes he ended up sounding like he’s mocking Junhui’s tone. “No, I mean.” He shrugs. “I had fun. It’s not always I can say I enjoyed lunch with my teacher.”

From his words, Junhui seems to brighten up. “Um, I mean… If you’re free, maybe we can hang out more today? Weather’s not too shabby.”

He feels a slight pang in his chest when he sees Junhui looking back at him with a hopeful glance. He checks his pulse. He can’t get a heart attack _now_.

“Yeah,” is certainly a far cry from _‘Oh, asking me for a date already, buttercup?’_ that confident gay Mingyu back in high school would have definitely pulled out of his ass. _Yeah_ sounds a lot more boring and tame, like him. “I mean, yes, please. God.”

He shakes his head. “Not please as in _begging_ please and God as in God _why do you forsake me_ , but, like—“ He grasps at straws trying to find for a way to save his image, but every word that comes out of his mouth is just doing the exact opposite. There’s an indignant sigh that comes out before he shuts his mouth.

Well, that went just fine and dandy.

Junhui hides his laughter behind his hand, but he ends up spitting a piece of noodle even past it. His eyes widen, and Mingyu immediately freezes when the noodle residue landed on his chin.

“Fuck, I’m _so_ sorry.”

Both of them stare at each other, movements paused, and as if on cue, they laugh at the same time. They get a few looks from both patrons and employees.

They quickly clear their trays off the table, still giggling to themselves as Junhui playfully nudges Mingyu off-center while walking out. “For spitting in your face, I should at least treat you dessert.”

Mingyu pretends to think about it before shrugging, you know, to feign nonchalance. “I’ll take that offer.”

Hey, free food is free food.

They stroll through campustown while keeping the conversation going. Mingyu tries to make a mental checklist of what he hasn’t tried out ever since it got too busy to explore weekly with some of his acquaintances. Or Jeonghan if he’s feeling _that_ desperate.

Mingyu learns that Junhui does pretty much the same thing.

“Really? That’s cool!”

“Mhm!” Junhui nods. “I’ve tried almost everything in Fourth street, but I heard that there was a new Mediterranean place that opened up, so I might check that out next time.”

Mingyu opens his mouth before his mind catches up. “Hey, why not go together?”

“That’s a wonderful idea! Maybe we can check new places out together after classes?” There’s a slight skip in Junhui’s steps as Mingyu follows him to a coffee shop he’s seen before, but never had the time to try out.

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

He doesn’t mention that he’s only going to attend the classes for three more times before he locks himself home again, but Junhui’s expectant eyes render him immobile from saying anything other than yes.

The soft tinkle of the bell and the smooth aroma of tea pulls him away from his thoughts.

“Haohao!” Junhui coos.

A black cat emerges from the employee door with a loud mew, an employee following right behind the feline.  “I told you to stop calling him Haohao, Junnie.” He grumbles as he watches the feline nearly jump up at Junhui.

Junhui welcomes the cat in his arms with a snicker. “Haohao likes it, so we’re keeping it, _Haohao_.”

Mingyu just stands there, watching the two of them interact. He’s pretty sure that this is against health code regulations, but the only other customer here doesn’t seem to care that there is an actual animal in a shop that handles food.

But of course, what his tiny mind catches a grasp on is something else. “We’re,” he whispers to himself. They’re probably another one of those happy couples, with the cat being their child, or something sappy like that—

“What do you mean ‘we’re’? Stop making us sound like we’re together in front of your boy here.” Human-Haohao disrupts Mingyu’s train of thought. His thoughts really just aren’t the most concrete today. There’s a relief that floods inside him, but he doesn’t exactly know why.

Junhui aims at human-Haohao’s arm, as much as he can with cat-Haohao nuzzling against him, anyways. “Shush, he’s my friend. Don’t scare him away.” He turns towards Mingyu with an apologetic smile, the feline following suit as he meows. “Sorry, I just got too eager seeing Haohao again…”

“It’s okay.” Really, how can he say otherwise when there’s two cats looking up at him. He feels his face heat up. Damn, what’s with public places and broken thermostats?

To distract himself, he reaches out and pets the cat right behind his ears, grinning when he leans towards his hand. “He likes me,” he whispers in awe as he tries not to tear up from how adorable cat-Haohao is.

Human-Haohao shrugs. “He likes everyone, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“Shut up, Hao. Go and get us desserts.” Junhui elbows him in the ribs, successfully this time. “Please,” he adds in politely, flashing a cheeky grin at him as if he hadn’t just nearly broken his rib.

“Go take a seat somewhere.”

Mingyu lets out a small laugh when human Haohao—he’s kinda tired pertaining the two as either cat or human, but he doesn’t know how else to address him—rolls his eyes and stomps behind the counter, preparing them whatever dessert it is. “Best friend?”

Junhui blinks up at him in the middle of playing with Haohao. “Oh, yeah. He’s more my brother than anything, but not blood-related.”

He lets the feline sit on his lap as they settle on a couch; the ones that are comfy enough to relax on, but the tables are placed far enough to take you away from whatever comfortable position you were in a few seconds ago just to reach for the food or coffee.

“Ah, I just realized I haven’t introduced you to each other!”

“That’s because you’re an airhead.” Hao steps out with two plates in hand, both containing a dainty strawberry cake and a plate of macarons. “I’m Minghao. I teach aerial back in the studio.”

He sets the plates down and holds a hand out for Mingyu.

“Mingyu. It’s nice meeting you.” He takes the hand, and immediately feels relief at the lack of desire to break his hand away from Minghao.

Minghao seems a lot more chill compared to Joshua.

“You should try aerial. It can really help your upper body strength.”

Mingyu laughs. “I don’t think I can take it.”

Minghao looks serious about his suggestion, so Mingyu’s laugh ends up short-lived and painful. He shuts his mouth by taking the first bite of the macaron. He takes his words back.

 

Other than the spurts of sass Minghao lets out every now and then, Mingyu finds himself enjoying his and Junhui’s company while they eat their dessert, courtesy of Minghao. He finds out through Junhui that Minghao’s family owns this shop, so he’s trying to study business while teaching in the studio as a sideline.

They’re small facts, but Junhui brags about his best friend with stars in his eyes so bright that Mingyu finds himself bound to remember them. It’d be nice to have a friend like him.

Mingyu also discovers that Junhui can eat strawberry cake good for twenty people and still get some more in the next shop. The three additional plates that Minghao brought in after the first one are enough evidence.

Junhui and Minghao obviously go way back that he can’t help but to feel out of place. Thankfully, Haohao keeps his spot on his lap, paw blindly nudging at his hand whenever Mingyu stopped petting him.

He sniffs as he takes the last bite of his macaron. Maybe Haohao can be his friend, instead.

 

It’s a little past five o'clock when Mingyu says he’ll have to head home and feed his roommate. Junhui props up and says he’ll come with.

“Aren’t you staying with Minghao?”

“Ah, no, I have to _practice_ for the _showcase_ _anyways_.” Junhui turns his head towards Minghao with every word emphasized, sticking his tongue out like the grown man he is.

Minghao, being another grown man that he is, retaliates by doing the same exact thing, blowing a raspberry in the end for extra maturity. “You’re not going to make me perform in the showcase, Junnie. Not in a million years.”

“You did it last fall! What’s different now?”

“Nothing.” It was barely noticeable, but Mingyu swears he hears a slight stutter. He’s pretty sure Junhui caught it too.

“Whatever, you still have three weeks to practice.” He says as he starts securing the harness on Haohao before putting on the leash.

“No.”

“I’ll convince your boyfriend to convince you.” He pauses. “Whoever he is. And you can’t stop me!” Junhui lets out the most triumphant evil laugh as he stands up.

“He is _not_ a boyfriend.” Minghao groans as he throws an ice chip at Junhui, only to miss by a lot, because Junhui’s near the exit now. The blush on the tips of his ears is telling, but Mingyu doesn’t chime in, in fears of ruining the potential blooming friendship that may be going on with them.

“Yeah, well Haohao is a cow.” Junhui waves him off. “See you tomorrow.”

Mingyu follows behind him as they walk back to the direction of the fast-food place they met earlier, his metaphorical tail beating against his leg as he waits for Junhui to start the conversation back up. Something feels different from when they grabbed dessert, but he can’t exactly put his finger on it. He feels his heart work harder, even if he’s not exerting much more energy compared to Junhui.

“Mingyu?” Junhui’s voice pulls him yet again out of his reverie.

“Yeah?” Mingyu halts in his tracks, fast enough to stop crashing into Junhui, but not quite fast enough. They end up only inches apart. He takes a sharp inhale. Junhui smells like strawberries. Maybe from the cake, or maybe it’s from his perfume, he doesn’t know.

Junhui looks up at him, but he’s not stepping away. “Thanks. You know, for today.”

“Of course.” Mingyu gulps, making the mistake of meeting Junhui’s gaze. “I had fun.” He lets out a soft laugh, taking a few steps back as the invisible force crushing his lungs slowly loosens with the distance. He reaches out to pet Haohao one last time. “Thanks for introducing me to Minghao and Haohao.”

At the mention of the names, Junhui’s smile softens. “Of course. You’re my friend now. It’s only right to introduce you to my other friends.”

Mingyu’s heart explodes at Junhui’s words. _My friend_. He made _friends_ with someone and it’s not through Jeonghan or Wonwoo’s attempts. He surprises both himself and Junhui when he pulls Junhui in a tight hug. “Thank you…” he whispers.

Junhui’s hand is warm on the small of his back as he hugs back. “Of course, Minggu.” Both the giggle and the nickname bring the same amount of warmth in his heart. “You don’t mind that nickname, do you?”

“No, no. You’re—It’s perfect.” Mingyu chuckles sheepishly, pulling away all of a sudden when he feels the heat radiate to his face. “Sorry, I’m getting kinda sweaty.” He says, despite the cool weather.

He wipes his clammy hands against his pants and shoves his hands in his jacket. “Anyways.” He rocks on the balls of his feet as he flashes Junhui a smile.

“Anyways,” Junhui repeats as he absently pets Haohao, returning the smile as the feline lets out a pleased mew from all the pets he’s been getting today. “See you soon, then?”

“Y-yeah. Bye. See you.” He waves farewell as Junhui starts walking the opposite direction as him.

Once he gets to his car and lets it heat up, he lets out a long-drawn groan. Maybe he likes Junhui a little _too_ much. He slams his head down on the center of the steering wheel, honking the horn while he’s at it. He sees a startled stranger flip the finger at him from his periphery.

Mingyu drives back to his place with yet another take-home, ordering strawberry milkshake for a change.

As he listens to Vernon talk about his classes, his mind drifts away to earlier. He remembers the rays of sunshine around Junhui when he showed him the hamster video, the freckles dotting his face, the smell of strawberries lingering from when they were inches apart…

“Bro, you okay?”

Mingyu belatedly realizes that his strawberry milkshake is long gone, and he doesn’t remember at what point he ran out. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. I need to sleep.”

“Sure… Night, Gyu. I hope you sleep well. Feel better soon.” Vernon shrugs without question and goes back to his laptop.

“Thanks, bro.”

Days like these are when Mingyu is thankful that Vernon’s attention span isn’t exactly the best. He rushes to brush his teeth and get ready for bed at eleven, instead of his usual four in the morning. Maybe he can just sleep it out, take his mind off Junhui.

As soon as he closes his eyes, the image of Junhui’s smile is etched on the backs of his lids. His body starts acting up, his ribcage barely containing the sound of his heart beating too fast. He opens his eyes again and takes a deep breath in.

Who is he kidding? He’s royally fucked for Junhui.

His heart could only contain this much stress before he goes into cardiac arrest.

  


Days go by uneventful for Mingyu, as uneventful as a hospital floor can be, slaving through the sleepless nights. He’s on his last shift for a three-in-a-row, and right about six am is when he is itching to go home and get some sleep to attend pole class later that evening.

“You seem to be in a good mood today.”

Mingyu shrugs as he comes back from his last med pass of the shift. “I am?” He tries to ask as coolly as he can.

Jeonghan raises a brow in return. “You’re literally about to tear your facial muscles apart.”

“It’s actually because today’s my last shift and I won’t have to see you for four more days.”

“For that, I’m gonna crash by your place and hold a sleepover just to ruin your days off.”

“Ass.”

Jeonghan clutches his chest, looking at Mingyu as if he spat on his mother’s face after making them dinner. He’s _that_ dramatic. “Well, maybe I wanna check on Bunny instead.”

“I won’t be answering the door, then. Bye!”

“Fuck you.”

He nearly fist pumps in triumph. Mingyu: 23, Jeonghan: … His grin falters.

Never mind.

  


Sleep goes by as fast as it always does. Although instead of his usual grogginess, Mingyu feels like he has all the energy in the world to do anything he wants fifty times. And in this case, he _really_ wants to go to pole dance class. _Wants to see Junhui_ , the little voice in his brain chimes in, but that’s beside the point.

He puts on his usual sweatpants on top of his self-proclaimed pole dance shorts, which was just the shorts he used in the past two classes. Before he steps out, though, there’s a thought that pops out of his brain.

What if Junhui sees him and realizes that he wore the exact same shorts from last week?

Mingyu imagines Junhui’s face, contorted in a disappointed frown as he shakes his head in disgust.

He runs back to his room to rummage for a different pair of shorts, winding up with a pair that he bought when he lost yet another bet with Jeonghan. (It was them betting whether or not Vernon would call denim shorts “jorts”. Needless to say that Mingyu made a mistake trusting Vernon not to say it.)

He pouts and reminds himself to buy two more pairs to switch to in the future.

Realizing that he’s almost late, he decides to forgo wearing his sweatpants completely and drives to the studio, excitement thrumming all the way to his fingertips. It’s only been less than a week, but this time, he’s determined to get Junhui’s phone number.

Just come up to him casually, ask him how his week has been, and bring up that he’d like to talk to him more. Since that’s what friends do. Easy-peasy.

He finds a new resolute as he parks his car, his smile wide as he makes his way to the studio. Good thing it’s getting warm enough to tolerate the evening atmosphere.

“Hey, Gyu!”

Mingyu’s throat closes up when Junhui raises his arm in a big, exaggerated wave. The action itself isn’t dry-throat-inducing—it’s even adorable—it’s seeing Junhui in a sleeveless crop top. His tiny waist is accentuated by the high-waisted shorts, and Mingyu has to mentally rip his eyes away from Junhui’s perfectly sculpted midriff before it looks creepy.

His brain goes into overdrive before he even gets to admiring Junhui’s wide shoulders.

Mingyu is at a loss of words, so he raises his hand and flashes as wide of a smile as he can muster. He gulps down the urge to say anything back, not taking the risk to sound or look stupid in front of his crush.

His resolve to get Junhui’s number easily crumbles under the merciless hands of Junhui himself.

Mingyu misses the way Junhui’s smile falters when he scans the room for any spare poles instead of pairing up with him like last class.

“Mingyu, pole up with me!”

Just when Mingyu thinks his mental state could not get from worse to wors _er_ at this point, he shows up. _Of course he does._

“Jeonghan, what the _fuck_ are you doing here?” He hisses, but he walks towards him anyways. Who the fuck says ‘pole up’ out loud?

“I told you I was gonna crash at your place for the weekend,” Jeonghan coos.

There’s a lazy, devious grin coming from Jeonghan that Mingyu always wants to punch out of his face. But before Mingyu snaps back, Junhui grabs everyone’s attention to start warm-ups.

Mingyu notices that Junhui doesn’t seem as peppy as he was in the previous class. He can’t exactly pinpoint it, but there’s clearly something bugging him.

At the end of the warm-up, Mingyu looks (and feels) a lot more disgruntled, but when he glances at Jeonghan, it looks like he hasn’t even started anything. Stupid Jeonghan, looking like a fit, healthy person beside him.

He huffs. Jeonghan Yoon wearing shorts and going to pole dance class is supposed to be blackmail-worthy, not _this_.

Junhui claps as they all set their mats aside, smiling wider as he introduces his routine—opting for a slower dance tonight. He lets the music take over the whole room as the soft piano resounds in the studio.

‘ _But heaven couldn’t wait for you._ ’

While Junhui seemed a bit down earlier, his dance shows the same elegance as what Mingyu has seen last week. Mingyu isn’t sure if it’s the slow melody or Beyoncé’s voice, but he feels his heart go fast again—as if it hasn’t been going at a rabbit’s pace the past week.

Mingyu is nearly overwhelmed from the emotion that Junhui’s dance contains. It doesn’t help his case that they make eye contact every now and then. His eyes are too clouded by wonder to realize that Junhui’s gaze has something else behind it.

Forty seconds seem way longer than it is for Mingyu, but he sees the end of the routine, and his heart is still very much intact.

They all applaud him. He stops himself from cheering too loud when he remembers Jeonghan’s presence beside him.

“Aren’t you glad I basically forced you into doing this?”

Mingyu’s cheeks heat up and punches Jeonghan’s arm, but he manages to hide a smile. “Shut up.”

Junhui starts breaking down the steps for the class, starting to go around to help people out as both groups switch and try the movements out.

As expected, Jeonghan’s moves are near flawless after a couple of tries, hitting the nail right on the head. He even looks cool while he’s at it. Mingyu whines. “This is unfair, did you take classes before?” Now he feels worse about showing his dance.

“No. I’m generally just better than you,” Jeonghan laughs and lets Mingyu use the pole, grinning at Mingyu’s suffering. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Just try the move.”

Mingyu huffs and attempts the first spin in the routine, ending up looking like a chicken spinning in a rotisserie. He looks around, and Junhui seems to be busy with other people.

But he wants to impress Junhui before he checks on Mingyu. He groans.

_‘I can’t believe I’m about to do this.'_

“Jeonghan, what do I do?” He uses his best set of puppy eyes and leans his cheek on the pole. It’s unsanitary but it’s worth it if he can convince Jeonghan to help him impress Junhui without exposing the big, fat crush he has on his teacher.

Jeonghan scans his eyes around the room and hums. “Well, since you asked so nicely. If you would just…” He puts a hand on the underside of Mingyu’s thigh and raises it up to press the inside of his thigh against the pole more securely. “And put your hand higher on the pole.”

“Like this?” Mingyu slides his hand up a bit.

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and grabs the hand to put it a bit higher, tipping his toes. In the position they’re in, Jeonghan is pressing against Mingyu’s body.

Mingyu hears someone clearing their throat, and it’s none other than Junhui. Jeonghan pulls away and grins.

“There. Just let yourself be carried by the gravity, and pull on the pole as if you’re tearing it off the ceiling.”

Mingyu gulps in attempts to relieve his drying throat, nodding.

“Can you show me the move, Mingyu?” Junhui asks. He directs a tight-lipped smile at Jeonghan.

“Y-yeah.” Mingyu’s tightens his grip on the pole with a new sense of determination in him and does exactly what Jeonghan told him as he performs the spin.

It’s always such a foreign feeling, letting himself fall. He’s going against his natural instincts, but he spins with as much control as he can. He looks at Junhui for approval when he sticks his landing.

“Good job, Mingyu. I can already see your improvement.” Junhui smiles wider, gives him a small pat on the arm. “But what you can do better, is if you press your hips forward and bend this arm slightly. May I?”

“Y-yeah.” Mingyu nods dumbly and feels blood rush to his ears when he feels Junhui’s fingers press on his waist from the back, nudging him forward. Junhui’s warmth radiates on his back as Junhui moves his arm and fixes the angle it’s bent.

Mingyu feels lightheaded as the familiar scent of strawberries permeates his nose. The fragrance disappears as quickly as it came when Junhui pulls away, but it still feels like someone bumped the temperature up ten degrees.

“There, try it again.”

Mingyu takes a second to register before he does the movement, applying what both Junhui and Jeonghan recommended. He feels a whole lot more stable after doing it. His grin is shaky even as he sticks the landing, but he feels proud of it.

“Beautiful.” Junhui gives him a small thumbs up before moving on to the rest of the students he needs to check on.

Mingyu pouts in dejection, metaphorical tail drooping down like a kicked puppy. He knows he’s definitely not up to par with Junhui, or even Jeonghan, but the lack of reaction kinda bummed him out.

 _Maybe Junhui just isn’t in the best mood today_ , Mingyu thinks as he watches Junhui interact with other people, instead of practicing like he should.

The rest of the class goes by smoothly, Mingyu giving up any attempts to look cool in front of his teacher. Mingyu himself is surprised Jeonghan hasn’t done anything shady that could destroy his chances with Junhui.

He’s not going to say it out loud, but he feels better having someone he knows beforehand to attend the class with. Even if that someone is Jeonghan.

He still thinks he completely butchered the whole routine when they all had to do it, but less so than when he first attended the class. He gives himself that. He doesn’t know where Jeonghan went after class ended and everyone got their gold stars from Junhui.

Mingyu suddenly remembers his goal before he got to the studio.

Now that he knows Junhui isn’t in a good mood, how is he possibly going to approach him without seeming suspicious that he wants his phone number? But he has to. He gotta.

Mingyu plays with the aglets of his shoe as he waits for everyone else to leave, standing when Junhui approaches the door.

“Hey,” Mingyu starts, a bit cautious.

Junhui steps out and hums. “Hey.”

“How was your week?”

Junhui fixes his duffel bag across his shoulder and looks up at Mingyu after he locks the door to the studio. “It’s been pretty fine. Haven’t had the chance to go out, really.”

“Me too…” Mingyu hums as they walk to the parking lot. He’s thankful that it’s not as awkward as he thought it was going to be. Mingyu’s heart rate spikes whenever their hands accidentally brush against each other, but neither of them are stepping away. “Are you free tomorrow?”

“I’m gonna practice for the spring showcase.”

“Oh…”

“I should be free after, though.” Junhui mumbles softly as they both spot Joshua’s minivan not too far from Mingyu’s car. He sees both Joshua and Seokmin leaning on the car, a bit too close to each other to notice Junhui walking towards them.

Mingyu’s about to say something when Jeonghan pops out of nowhere.

“Hey! Mingyu has something to ask before he leaves, so. Don’t let him go until he asks you whatever it is,” he quips as he sprints to the direction of his car before Mingyu can kick him. He blows Mingyu a kiss and hops into his car.

Mingyu cringes and kicks a rock towards Jeonghan’s speeding vehicle. He’s pretty sure there’s steam coming off the top of his head as he glances at Junhui from the side.

“Well?” Junhui stops walking and crosses his arms, bottom lip jutted out and cheek puffed up.

“Um.” Mingyu fixes his collar and gulps as he looks down, breath hitching as he catches a glimpse of Junhui’s exposed tummy. “Um.”

This is unfair, Junhui can’t be cute _and_ sexy at the same time.

“I don’t have all night, Mingyu.” Junhui starts walking to the minivan, a frown on his face. Joshua and Seokmin seem to have stopped… doing whatever they were doing just a second ago.

Mingyu grabs a hold of Junhui’s wrist and asks in a single breath, “CanIhaveyourphonenumberplease.”

Junhui looks back at him like he just grew a second head. From what Mingyu is inferring, the look is close to the answer that rhymes with snow. But after a few moments of silence, Junhui breaks into a laugh. “Oh my god, you’re such a dummy.”

“Is... Is that a no?”

Mingyu’s eyes widen when Junhui wraps an arm around his waist, plucking his phone from his back pocket before typing down what seems to be his number. ‘ _How did he even know I put my phone there?_ ’

“There. Is that a good enough answer?” Junhui hands him his phone and smiles, patting Mingyu’s cheek before walking to Seokmin and Joshua. Before he rides, though, Junhui waves at Mingyu, similar to how he he did before class started.

Mingyu smiles and waves back with the same enthusiasm as he starts his car, rolling his window down to continue waving.

He drives out of the parking lot and keeps waving until Junhui is out of his range. When he gets home, he doesn’t waste any second to send him a text. He glances at the phone every second until he gets a reply, but that isn’t until two hours later when he’s about ready to catch up on some anime.

Mingyu picks up the phone too fast when he receives a notification, his heartbeat picking up. Junhui sends him a selfie of him pouting. The background seems all too familiar.

‘ _Wish you were here with me to argue with Seokmin and Joshua that Olive Garden is genuine Italian cuisine_.’

He grins and replies, ‘ _Take some breadsticks home for me._ ’

‘ _Only if you visit me after practice._ ’

Mingyu bites his lip and hums. ‘ _For the sake of breadsticks, I will._ ’

‘ _Only for breadsticks? :-/'_

There’s a hesitation in him that stops him from replying too fast, instead waiting a few minutes. ‘ _I’ll come just to see you too, then. :)’_

‘ _See you, then :3c_ ’

‘ _Of course. Good night._ ’ After a moment or two, Mingyu sends another reply. ‘ _You looked good in a crop top, by the way. Good night. For real._ ’

He palms his face. Why did he send those separately?

When he doesn’t get a reply, he decides to go to sleep earlier to get ready for tomorrow. He never likes shifting back to his “normal” day hours, only because it’s a pain to revert back to night shift.

But tonight, he falls sleep without any fumbling, eager for what he has set tomorrow.

  


Noon is when he finds himself in front of the studio, plastic bag hanging from his wrist. Said plastic bag has a tupperware that has homemade strawberry cake in it.

He doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t have to have a reason, right? It’s what _some_ people do, _some_ people show appreciation to a person by waking up at ass o’ clock, heading out to the nearest Walmart to buy ingredients, and baking a cake from scratch to give it to them later that day.

Nothing out of the ordinary about getting back into his old talent that he never had time to do after graduating high school.

The blinds are drawn, so he doesn’t exactly know what’s going on from the outside, other than the muted vibrations of the music. He gulps down his hesitation before finally pushing the door open. The now-familiar sound of the bell signalling his entrance slices through the music playing.

“Minggu!” Junhui exclaims as he turns off the music, surprise laced in his voice. “I’m just about ready to go!”

Mingyu doesn’t want to take his shoes off, so he just stays near the door, rubbing the back of his neck as his throat closes up on him.

Junhui is a lot more sweaty and out of breath compared to whenever he teaches beginners’ class. Mingyu tries his best to ignore the way Junhui’s loose tank top is clinging on his torso (key word being ‘try’).

“Minggu?”

Mingyu blinks back into reality as a hand enters his field of vision. “Sorry, I was just,” he fixes his collar. “Thinking.”

Junhui giggles. “You’re silly.” He slings his bag over his shoulder and walks towards Mingyu, bumping shoulders with him. “I didn’t really expect you to come… I’m thankful that you did.”

Mingyu shrugs, thrusting the tupperware of cake towards Junhui as nonchalantly-yet-not-rudely as he can. “Well. That’s what friends do, right?” And good friends give their friends homemade cake for no reason at all.

Junhui gasps as he peeks in the plastic container, looking at Mingyu with bright eyes as he realizes what it is. “You can bake?”

Mingyu’s smile is nothing short of proud when he hears the amazement in Junhui’s voice. “I do. Well, I used to, at least, then I kinda stopped, and now here we are. Sorry the decor kinda lacks.”

With just buttercream slapped on it in an attempt to make it look presentable, it’s a far cry from Minghao’s painstakingly decorated cake from the café.

“Well, for the record, it’s the most beautiful cake I have ever laid my eyes on.”

Mingyu really doesn’t know how to feel when Junhui’s looking at his face while he said that, every word piercing through his heart.

“Don’t tell Minghao I said that, by the way.”

Mingyu draws a cross on his heart and nods. “I promise I won’t.”

Junhui pauses, as if he realized something, and runs back to the office without saying anything. He comes back with a paper bag, _Olive Garden_ imprinted across it. “Here.” He hands it to him.

Mingyu peeps in the bag and smiles. They’re hours-old breadsticks. He looks at Junhui, brow raised in half-amusement, half-questioning.

“Because you came to see me,” Junhui mutters with a shrug, making his way out of the studio with Mingyu trailing right behind him. “Thanks.”

The breadsticks are probably stale by now, but Mingyu will cherish each and every one of them, until the very last crumb.

There are times when Mingyu doesn’t feel the burden of being so, _so_ infatuated with Junhui, when everything between them feels comfortable that the butterflies in his stomach settle and he feels full of fondness instead.

“Hey,” Mingyu starts as they make their way to the parking lot. “Can I have another reservation for Mister Wen?”

Junhui hums and pretends to look at his phone. “Well, according to his schedule, he’s free for about a few more hours.” He grins wide. “You’re pretty lucky, he’s usually a very busy man.”

“I’ll make sure to use his time wisely, then.”

“Good. Where are you taking him?”

  


As Mingyu leads the way to the nearest park, he’s thankful he remembered to bring utensils with the cake. He glances at Junhui every now and then.

“To be honest, I didn’t expect you to bring me to a park, of all places.” Junhui teases.

Mingyu pouts when he searches for a place to settle down on. It’s getting pretty humid, so he’s increasingly feeling regret the longer they stay out. “Hey, what is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I just didn’t think you were a park person.”

“Well, uh, I don’t come out often.”

“Exactly.” Junhui laughs as he sits on the roots of the tree, settling right under the shade. His smile is bright as he pats the space beside him.

Mingyu sits, and it’s not as comfy as he expected. He laughs, a bit sheepish. “I, uh, honestly thought this would be r—“ He nearly trips up on saying The R-word (romantic), “—eally fun. Y’know. Hanging out and eating breadsticks and cake under the cool shade.”

There’s a long pause between them before Mingyu sighs. “I’m sorry I made you sit on dirt.”

For some reason, Junhui laughs, hard. He tips off-balance and falls backwards. He gasps in surprise, but he continues to laugh. This goes on for a few minutes before he gradually stops, wiping his tears. “God, I’m sorry, you’re so funny.”

Mingyu chuckles along, unsure of how to act. At least he has the humid heat to blame when he feels his cheeks warm up. “Thanks, I try my best.” He toys with the hem of his shirt.

“Well, sitting on dirt can still be fun.” Junhui sits back up with a grunt and takes the tupperware out of the plastic bag. “Anything can be fun when you have fun with the person you’re doing it with.”

Mingyu’s heart skips a beat when Junhui leans his head on his shoulder. “Right…” He hopes Junhui won’t hear his heart beating against his ribcage.

“Speaking of fun, what else do you do? You know, to have fun. Or to earn money so you can have fun.”

“I’m a nurse.”

“Impressive.” Junhui twirls the fork between his fingers and nods. “Do you get to _stab_ people with needles and stuff, then?” He emphasizes the word by stabbing the cake at the same time. He cuts a piece and puts the big chunk of it in his mouth. “Oh god… This ish sho good.” He moans out with a mouthful of strawberry cake.

“Only if they let me.” Mingyu smiles, hiding his (slightly) smugness behind a sheepish laugh. The moan is totally uncalled for. “Thank you. It’s been long since I baked something.”

“Now that you say that, I need to see you bake! No one should be this good without practicing for a while.” Junhui hits his arm before taking another bite.

Junhui doesn’t have to know that Mingyu woke up at four in the morning and messed up the recipe twice before he got the final product.

“Thank you, again.”

“Of course. You could make a living out of this, that’s how good it is. I’m really surprised that you’re a nurse. No offense.”

Mingyu shrugs and rips off a piece of the breadstick before popping it in his mouth. It’s still good. “None taken.”

Junhui seems to be contemplating his words. “Do, um, do you mind me asking why? Did you want to be one?”

Mingyu shakes his head. “It’s. I don’t know. I like the fact that it gives me financial stability, and the opportunity for growth is endless. I mean, if I hadn’t worked hard for it, I probably would’ve failed my classes, then I’d end up wasting more money _and_ time. Besides, I wound up liking it, as stressful as it is.”

He opens his mouth to add something else, _Because of that, I admire you for sticking to your passion._

“Sorry it’s not groundbreaking or touching, if that’s what you were expecting.”

“What are you talking about? I actually respect what you do. I can’t relate, since I’m so stubborn, but you’re probably way better off than me. Teaching and pole dancing could only go so far.”

Junhui pouts when he realizes he’s finished the cake.

“Okay, but you’re the one who has fun going to work, so who wins? Also, you inspire more people than you realize.” Mingyu resists the urge to give Junhui’s hand a reassuring squeeze and bites off a big chunk of the breadstick instead.

God _why_ _did I say that? And why did I have to look at him while I said it?_

“Thank you, Minggu. That means a lot to me.”

 _You mean a lot to me_. He clears his throat. “Of course. Glad to know you enjoyed the cake.”

“It’s literally _so_ good.”

“I can make you more.”

“I’ll let you. Only if you promise to attend the spring showcase and cheer for me.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how this offer works, Jun.”

Junhui rolls his eyes and sticks his pinky out, completely disregarding what Mingyu just said. “Well, are you gonna watch me perform or not?”

“I’ll be there.” Mingyu loops his pinky around Junhui’s and smiles.

They walk back to the studio’s parking lot when they run out of games to play without going past the shade of the tree they’re sitting under. The sun’s rays aren’t as harsh as when they went to the park, but Mingyu’s cheeks still feel warm as ever beside Junhui.

Mingyu’s hand does that _thing_ where it brushes against Junhui’s whenever one of them steps a bit too close. He ends up shoving his hand in his pocket before he loses all his resolve and holds Junhui’s hand once and for all.

When they get to the studio, Joshua’s infamous minivan is right beside Mingyu’s car, despite the very wide, very empty parking lot.

“Oh, my ride’s here. Hey Seokie, Xiao Hao!”

Seokmin is waving from the driver’s seat and Joshua is nowhere to be found for a change. Instead, Minghao is sitting on the shotgun seat, eyes narrowed at them as they approach the vehicle. “Where have you guys been?”

Minghao is obviously suspicious. Meanwhile, Seokmin peeks and smiles. “Hey, Gyu!”

Mingyu returns the smile, although he feels like he’s intruding a family meeting. “Hey, Seokmin.”

“We went to N.B.” Junhui shrugs.

Minghao raises a brow. “Where’s that?”

“Nunya Business.” Mingyu has to bite back his laugh. As Junhui waits for the door to fully slide open, he turns around to flash Mingyu a smile. “Anyways, thanks for today, Minggu.”

“Of course, anytime. Thank you for the breadsticks.” Mingyu’s hands itch to give him a hug, but he hesitates under Minghao and Seokmin’s presence. “See you next class, Jun.”

“I’ll text you.” Junhui mouths before he hops in.

Mingyu nods and waves, watching them go before he heads back home. Since he went grocery shopping earlier, he decides to cook dinner for him and Vernon for the first time in a couple months.

  


Mingyu’s week passes by with his shifts being his shifts, Jeonghan being Jeonghan, and his brain still being his brain, filled with Junhui—him smiling, him laughing, him laughing in _that_ crop top, among many others.

He plans to surprise Junhui with another kind of cake when he got a text saying Junhui will be out to practice some more before the showcase. So here he is early in the morning, barging in the studio without bothering to knock. “Hi J—”

He doesn’t expect Minghao to be there, lazing with his back against the mirrors. He supposes Junhui was able to convince him to perform in the showcase. “‘Sup.”

“Hey, Minghao. Where’s Junhui?”

“He’s just getting his heels in the office.”

Mingyu’s jaw nearly unhinges from how far down it dropped, blinking repeatedly to make sure he didn’t hear him wrong. He shakes his head when he realizes what he did doesn’t even make sense. “H-his heels?” He croaks out weakly.

Minghao seems to take amusement at Mingyu’s obvious suffering. “Yeah, it’s not really required but it adds spice to any performance, y’know?”

Before Mingyu even recovers from the _thought_ of Junhui wearing heels, Junhui himself steps out of the office with distinct click-clacking sounds. “Minggu!” His thighs look firmer than ever.

_God._

Junhui beams as he half-walks, half-waddles towards Mingyu in his heels, hugging him tight. “I hope you had a wonderful week.”

It doesn’t really process that Junhui is wearing heels. Platform heels that make him almost a head taller than Mingyu, and that’s saying something. Mingyu is smothered against Junhui’s chest as he tries to hug back. “I did.” _I missed you, though_. “I hope you did, too. I brought you cake.”

Minghao clears his throat. “Now that you lovebirds are done reminiscing the old times, can Junhui show me his perf? I got places to be.” He taps his nonexistent watch as he slumps further down on the floor.

Mingyu pulls back, tips of his ears heating up. “Um, d-do you mind if I watch?” He feels _really_ small right beside Junhui.

Junhui shakes his head and giggles. “Of course not. As long as you don’t spoil the performance to anyone.” He presses a finger on his lips and winks.

As Minghao takes Junhui’s phone to set on video, there’s a loud ringing coming from his pocket. “Ah, shit.” He glances at his phone and frowns. “I’ll be back, Junnie.”

Junhui gives him a nod and squats beside the pole as he waits for Minghao.

Mingyu gulps whenever his eyes land on Junhui, crossing his legs as he sits on the floor. He opts to look at his beautifully made cake, playing the waiting game with Junhui.

Even with the music resounding in the whole studio, Mingyu feels like it still doesn’t help cover the sound of his heart pounding against his ribcage.

“What flavor of cake did you make?” Junhui starts.

“Red velvet. I think you’ll really like it.”

He smiles. “We’ll see. Your strawberry cake is pretty much the best.”

“Probably because that’s the only thing you’ve tried.”

“Fair point.”

The song that was playing comes to an end, and so do two more songs after that, but Minghao still hasn’t come back. Junhui opts to check on him in worry, but there’s a message notification that disrupts him.

The clacking of Junhui’s heels have some sort of effect on him, as Mingyu seems to fall into a trance.

“Minghao said something came up and had to leave.” Junhui frowns. “He said he’ll try to come back to practice himself, but that I should go on.”

“I hope he’s okay.” Mingyu barely registers what Junhui said except for a few words.

“I told him to update me as soon as possible.” Junhui sighs. “Oh well, if he said we should go ahead... Do you mind recording my performance? I’m just polishing it, so I wanted to see how I did.”

Mingyu blinks and shakes his head. “I don’t mind. Where do you want me to stay put?”

Junhui pulls a chair to the center of the mirrors. “Here. Just try to keep the camera still, okay? And play after the music starts.”

“Sure.” Mingyu nods as he takes a seat on the chair. How hard can it be, right? At most he can get is he’ll get shaky from holding the phone up. He sets Junhui’s phone to a reasonable height and puts a thumb up.

Junhui hits the play button on the CD player and walks to the pole, head down as silence fills the whole room.

Like any other performance of his that Mingyu has seen from the classes, Junhui’s aura is one that captures everyone’s attention without actually doing anything just yet. Music filters in, and _of course it’s_ Partition.

Junhui’s phone almost slips from Mingyu’s grip when the beat drops, because Junhui immediately starts off with lifting himself off the ground to do a full revolution around the pole. From the momentum of the spin, Junhui’s legs come up to tilt himself upside down, hands leaving the pole as his thighs secure his position.

Even with the complicated movements, every movement Junhui does is fluid, like one movement was made to be followed by the one that preceded it.

Mingyu’s breath hitches as Junhui does a full split while dangling off the pole. Only now does he realize how he hasn’t seen Junhui in his full potential, seeing as he’s pretty much stuck doing easier dances for beginners to follow.

This is Junhui’s world, and Mingyu’s just living in it.

Junhui slides down gracefully from the pole and Mingyu can’t take his eyes away from Junhui’s thighs, or any part of him, for that matter. Other than his pole dances, his movements are sharp yet graceful when he’s on the floor.

What Mingyu doesn’t expect is when Junhui closes in on him. Despite the bass shaking the whole room up with its vibrations, Mingyu couldn’t help but focus only on the man dancing in front of him, nearly straddling his lap.

Junhui pushes the arm that’s holding the phone down and shimmies his hips in time with the beat. He tangles his fingers behind Mingyu’s neck, rolling his head slowly to expose the sharp angles and dips of his jaw and face.

Mingyu could only gulp in anticipation, daring to put his hands on Junhui’s waist. Their faces are inches apart from each other, Junhui’s breath fanning against his lips as he nears the end of the song.

Junhui sings softly along to the music as he cups Mingyu’s face.

They’re so, _so close_ from each other, that Mingyu can’t help but take in the beauty right in front of him.

But before either of them can do anything else, the familiar ring of the doorbell cuts through the air between Junhui and Mingyu.

Junhui stands and steps back in one quick motion before whoever the intruder is could see what they were doing.

Like someone just released him from a headlock, Mingyu lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He clutches on his chest and tries to still his raging heart. Only now does he remember to stop the recording.

“Minghao! You’re back.” Junhui pouts as he moves to clean the pole he just used. “I told you to update me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t really check my phone when I rushed back here.” Minghao shoves his hands down his pockets. “So, how did the practice go?”

Mingyu straightens up. “I think he did pretty well!” He chimes in all of a sudden. Biting his inner cheek, he curses himself for acting a lot less cool than Junhui did.

If Minghao felt suspicious, he doesn’t show it. “Great. Do you still need me to watch the recording so we can go through what you need to fix?”

“No.” Both Junhui and Mingyu say at the same time, all too suddenly, and they laugh. Minghao doesn’t even try to hide his suspicion now.

“What I mean is, I think it’s better if you just watch me again personally and just comment while I run through it.”

Mingyu nods along as Junhui stares at him. “Yeah, and actually, um, I gotta go somewhere too. My roommate’s gonna die if I don’t bring him food, so, uh, I’ll be out of your way.”

He leaves Junhui’s phone on the chair he was sitting on and runs out before he can do or say anything else.

He drives back home, his mind a jumble of thoughts of Junhui and everything else that has happened between them. He grips his clammy hands on the steering wheel as he thinks of Junhui’s face.

If he leaned a bit closer, what would have Junhui’s lips felt like?

He makes an inhumane wailing sound as he buries his face in his hands at the thought of kissing Junhui, nearly crashing the car in front of him as the one behind him honks.

It’s a good way to start his weekend.

 

The last two classes pass by in a breeze for Mingyu. If “breeze” means him trying not to imagine Junhui up close and working his body closer to a heart failure every time Junhui comes to his pole and helps him out, then yeah.

It’s totally a breeze for Mingyu.

He could at least do a fireman’s spin without hesitating by his last class.

But with what the showcase has going on for the teachers and willing students (read: not Mingyu), Junhui barely has time to even text him. Mingyu doesn’t mind it at all, because he’s a good friend and an adult who knows how to respect distance and time apart.

Besides, Vernon could probably use another set of eyes to edit his thesis.

 

 

It’s four in the afternoon when Mingyu wakes up from his eight-hour nap, whole body groggy from his last night shift of the week.

Everything seems so comical when Mingyu’s eyes widen after a few seconds of reality sinking in. “Four o'clock?” He sits up too fast that white dots speck his vision, groaning as he slowly adjusts.

The showcase isn’t until six, but he planned to get up earlier so he can bake a cake for Junhui. He doesn’t waste any time running to the kitchen and preheating the oven. He turns it up to the highest possible setting he can to heat it up faster, and he can just lower it back down when he shoves the cake batter in.

The baking gods are probably looking down at him in disappointment.

He glances at the clock. There’s enough time for him to stir up the batter and mix some buttercream up before he can take a shower so he doesn't smell like hand sanitizer and sick people. His hands are deft from the weeks of getting back into the habit of baking, but that doesn't mean he doesn't make a mess all over the kitchen.

Half an hour goes by faster than Mingyu likes. He feels like he's in a cooking competition when he smooths out his cake mix onto the pan lined with wax paper. It's kinda satisfying. He opens the oven to put his cake, coughing when he's met with the heat of a thousand scorching suns.

Okay, maybe he's exaggerating a bit, but he feels like he just burned a layer of his skin off from opening the oven.

He slides the pan in and shuts the oven close before he sprints out to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up quick. He hasn't given much thought about what he should wear, since he's not really sure what the atmosphere is for the showcase.

He cleans himself faster than usual and steps out to peruse his closet for clothes he hasn't bothered wearing in a while. Having a uniform really helps a lot when you're indecisive. Before he gets settled on what he should wear, however, he smells something.

Something _burning_.

"Fuck my cake!"

If Jeonghan was with him, he'd probably mention something about doing the nasty with a pastry, just to be annoying.

But now, he really does feel like he's in _Chopped_ , running to his oven and trying to salvage what he can of the dark brown cake. He can almost hear the intense background music. He turns off the oven before he can burn down his apartment, groaning.

He lets out a choked moan (of relief? Pain? he doesn't know at this point) as he's able to scrape off all the burned parts, leaving him with a cake that barely covers his palm.

Cupcake it is.

Letting the tiny cake cool down and mixing a drop of red food color on the cream to make it a pastel pink. At least he caught the cake early enough to not trigger the smoke alarms.

Initially, he was leaning towards the plan of writing down something cheesy on the cake. Something like, ' _Pole-ease accept my love for you._ ' But fate tells him that it's not a good idea by kindly burning the rest of his cake and leaving him with barely any space to put words on it.

He only has an hour left when he looks at the clock again. He coats the tiny cake with an abundance of buttercream.

For some reason, a tiny voice in his brain tells him to grab a piping bag and put tiny flowers all over the mini-cake to make it look as pretty as Junhui is. _And_ , as if he isn't already running late as he is, his body just said, 'yeah sure whatever'.

After twenty minutes of decorating, he's finally done with the cake. It doesn’t look as pretty as what he envisioned, but he doesn't have time to argue with himself anymore.

At this point, Mingyu is contented with slipping on the same navy blue dress shirt he wore during his job interview and fitted jeans. He tucks the shirt in and cuffs the ends of his pants before he sprays on some cologne on him. He looks at the mirror and nods. Half an hour left, he’s got plenty of time.

He puts the cake in a container that has a bit more space to prevent ruining all the effort he put decorating the pastry.

“Go get him, Gyu!” Mingyu hears from Vernon’s room as he steps out of their shared unit.

As soon as he gets on his car, he puts a seatbelt on the cake to make sure it doesn’t slide off the seat while he drove. He double, triple-checks everything before starting the car and rushes to the showcase.

When he gets to the studio, there are more cars parked than usual. He’s not the one going to perform in front of an audience, so why does he feel jittery all over?

He takes a deep breath in before letting out a loud sigh.

“Here goes nothing.”

Mingyu holds the cake like it’s his firstborn when he gets off his car. His hands are feeling clammy, so he switches the container between his hands every now and then.

He doesn’t realize how small the classes have actually been until he sees way more than twenty people in the studio right now. It’s not like there’s a hundred people in the room, but with chairs aligned for the guests to sit on and velvet curtains blocking the makeshift stage, it feels a bit cramped.

The whole studio is buzzing with excitement. He sees a glimpse of the performers making their way out of the dressing room.

He finds comfort in realizing how much he has grown in this place in five short sessions.

(He looks around for any familiar faces, looks for Junhui, but he sees no one.)

“Mingyu, over here!” Okay, Jeonghan needs to stop showing up in his head. It’s not even funny anymore.

He almost blinks his eyeballs out in surprise at what he sees next.

No, not because Jeonghan is actually in the studio. It’s because Minghao, Junhui’s best friend, pops out of nowhere and crouches down slightly to give Jeonghan, his annoying co-worker, a kiss on the lips before he walks back to the dressing room.

“What the _fuck_?” Mingyu walks closer and takes the empty seat beside Jeonghan. He rubs his eyes for good measure.

“What?” Jeonghan crosses his arms, amusement written all over his face. “How’d you think I got so good at pole dancing?”

Before Mingyu can say anything, two people wearing trench coats come out behind the curtains. The audience quiets down as they both hold up a hand.

“Welcome, friends, beloveds, and families…” The lady starts off rather eerily before they both peel the trench coats off. Underneath, their clothes are the type that Mingyu probably has nightmares about if his grandma decides to wear them. “To _Defy Gravity’s_ yearly spring showcase!”

Who knew leotards could look like _that_.

“I’m Soonyoung from Advanced Pole.” The guy poses for the theatrics.

Of course, the girl follows his antics. “And I’m Minkyung, from Aerial Fundamentals.”

“We’ll be your hosts for the night!”

There’s a wave of applause from the audience, the atmosphere amping up by the second.

“This year, we’re grateful to have a lot more students from different classes prepare a lil’ something for everyone.”

“That’s right. Well, before we bore you to death with us speaking, we just want to give everyone a fair reminder. This is a no-judgment zone. All we do tonight is hype, hype, hype!” The audience gives a big whoop. “Also, there will be many suggestive themes that will pop up throughout the showcase.”

As if the shorts that come up just to the curve of Soonyoung’s ass and the words ‘ _Insert Here_ ’ with an arrow pointing down printed on his shirt isn’t enough indication.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s start off with our first performance!”

Soonyoung and Minkyung draw back the curtains as they leave the stage for the first person to take over.

 

As more people perform, Mingyu feels the thrum of butterflies rampaging in the pit of his stomach. He isn’t aware of when Junhui will come out of the stage to do his performance, so his attention goes back and forth between paying attention in the performances and thinking about how he’s going to approach Junhui to let him know about his feelings.

Soonyoung isn’t lying about the suggestive themes, that’s for sure. Still, if Mingyu hasn’t been losing his mind over the thought of Junhui performing the dance he watched a couple of weeks ago in full costume, he would’ve appreciated better how the event is full of self-love and body positivity.

Surprisingly, Jeonghan hasn’t bothered him ever since the showcase started. Mingyu looks for wood to knock on three times, to make sure he doesn’t jinx it for the whole night. Or for the rest of his life, if possible.

_Speaking of Jeonghan, where is he?_

He looks around for him, but he ends up giving up when they introduce the next performer.

Inevitably, it’s time for Junhui’s performance. Mingyu’s heart rate goes from fast to faster as he cheers for Junhui, a bit louder than everyone else.

Everything is dark, so Mingyu can’t see what Junhui’s costume is. He’s seen the full performance already, but it feels like the first meeting all over again, feels like a new flood of admiration every single time he lays eyes on Junhui, and this is no exception.

As the music starts playing, the lights come on and everyone goes wild when Junhui shows up. At least that’s what Mingyu hears before his mind blanks at the sight of Junhui wearing a choker and something akin to leather bondage wrapping all over his lithe torso. The only thing covering _down there_ is leather shorts that leave little to the imagination. His heels are the same from the practice, but that doesn’t make Mingyu any less aroused at this point.

Mingyu’s thoughts are a jumbled mess of him trying to appreciate Junhui’s performance and him trying to suppress a boner from how sexy Junhui is. He hopes that he’s at least successful in the latter part.

When Junhui hits his last pose with a smirk, Mingyu’s brain lags one second before he stands up to give him the loudest cheer.

But instead of everyone else joining him, everything turns dark again, and there’s a blinding spotlight focusing on him and Junhui.

He looks around, but the light is too much for his eyes to adjust to. It’s like the only person in this room are the two of them.

The light, despite how artificial it is, casts an angelic hue on Junhui’s face. Mingyu feels like the wind was knocked out of him as he looks at Junhui.

 _Beautiful_.

Junhui looks around, confused. When he spots Mingyu from the audience, his shoulders relax and he breaks into a wide smile.

“You came.”

“You can’t possibly think I’d break a pinky promise.” Mingyu lets out a weak laugh as his throat nearly gets clogged from the butterflies threatening to come out from his stomach. His ribcage can barely contain his raging heart with every step he takes closer to Junhui. He throws out all his inhibitions as he takes Junhui’s hands in his.

Even with the audience starting to mutter, Mingyu could only focus on one thing, and one thing only.

“Can I ask you to keep a promise for me?” Mingyu gives Junhui’s hands a squeeze. He takes a sharp inhale.

“Promise me that you’ll always stay happy and healthy your whole life.”

“Well,” Junhui smiles, loops their pinkies together, and presses a kiss on Mingyu’s knuckle. “That’ll only happen if I spend it with you.”

Mingyu chuckles as he can see the everyone’s souls cringing out of their bodies from his periphery. Without wasting any second, he pulls Junhui closer to him and leans in to close the distance between their lips.

He hears cheers coming from the background, but he drowns himself in the feeling of Junhui’s soft lips on his. He wraps his arms around Junhui and holds him close, even after they break the kiss to catch their breaths. Their foreheads are leaning against each other, and Mingyu can’t help but to lean in to steal a quick kiss.

“Is it just me or did we just encounter the best intermission ever?” Soonyoung chimes in and they all laugh.

The lights are turned back on, and Mingyu isn’t surprised to see Jeonghan _and_ Minghao manning the spotlights.

“You’re welcome, Gyu!” Jeonghan calls out, a smug grin on his face.

Okay, maybe Mingyu _is_ thankful for Jeonghan. A tiny bit. But he’ll never say that out loud.

 

( _Two years later…_ )

“Mingyu, we’re gonna be late! Quick!” Junhui groans as he retouches his lipstick.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is still fixing the tie around his neck. “And whose fault is it exactly?”

Junhui shrugs and puts his hand on Mingyu’s pants to pull the zipper up. “It’s not my fault you’re sexy in a suit.”

Mingyu blushes a bright pink and hits his arm weakly. “You suck.”

“Quite literally.”

He groans and grabs his keys, opting to ignore Junhui’s comment.

Vernon steps out of his room with earphones on, oblivious to the world as he makes his way out. He waves at Junhui, and Junhui waves back with a cheeky smile.

“Are we ready to go?”

Oh, how Mingyu wishes he’s as unbothered as Vernon right now.

 

 

When they get to the venue, it’s filled with people from the studio and some who Mingyu doesn’t recognize. It’s the perfect weather for a garden wedding.

“Over here, Gyu!” Minghao and Jeonghan call out from their seats.

It’s just in time before Pachelbel’s _Canon in D Major_ plays in the background.

Seokmin comes out, donning a pristine suit. The colorful bouquet he’s holding is a beautiful contrast. His smile is brighter than ever, brighter than the white of his tuxedo, or even the sun.

Everyone coos when Seokmin breaks into tears after taking one step closer to Joshua. They laugh when Joshua starts crying too, but everyone in the place just kind of started tearing up.

Mingyu almost feels overwhelmed with the amount of love radiating from Seokmin and Joshua as the ceremony goes on. He feels a warm hand squeezing his. He looks to his side and breaks into a wide smile, lacing their fingers together.

(He’s not an avid believer of superstitions, but he can’t explain why he got ecstatic when Junhui caught the bouquet during the reception.)

**Author's Note:**

> you reached the end! *blows confetti* woo! thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it!
> 
> !!!MANDATORY LONG CHEESY NOTE ALERT!!!
> 
> first of all, i want to thank the mods for creating this fest. this is the first one i have joined, and i'm so thankful that you all are so patient and understanding up until now (i literally posted this 2 minutes before posting closes). thank you for giving me extensions and for tolerating my snail speed response at times. also, big THANK YOU to my lovely beta-reader, tsanka. you have been nothing but supportive to me. thank you so much for dealing with my crying and whining. you are such a wonderful wonderful person for making this long, grueling journey a more tolerable one through your jokes and praises and constructive criticisms. love you mom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


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